You, Jeep
by ekrem
Summary: "You, Jeep. You are the reason I still have faith." Something I thought up while watching Legion, based on the storage room scene. Plus, there are no Michael/Jeep stories, which is preposterous.


**You, Jeep**

Jeep Hanson was an interesting man. At the much-too-young age of twenty he had fallen in love with a beautiful woman who carried the child of another man, become an amateur car mechanic at his alcoholic father's diner located in the middle of nowhere, and now, to top it all off, he had battled angels.

Motherfucking _angels_.

He was told that God was pissed. Fed up. He wanted humans gone, _exterminated_, because he had given up hope that they could pull themselves from the chaos they'd created for themselves. They were blasphemers, heretics, adulterers, sodomites, murderers, thieves, sadists.

The first signs of the Apocalypse were the phone lines going dead and the television only working one channel, the Emergency Broadcast Station. The only problem was there was no one left to broadcast the emergency.

Then the old lady showed up- the one who climbed up the fucking _walls_ and ripped that man's neck apart. Also, the old lady Jeep couldn't shoot because his humanity forbade him to. His subconscious couldn't allow him to shoot another human, even if she had baby shark teeth and could glide across the floor without moving her goddamn feet.

When they dragged the old bitch outside in that bag was when that cop car came into view in the distance. Everyone was tense, expecting another _wall-climber_, another human that behaved like a demon on crack.

However, when the car pulled up and the driver got out of the car, Jeep prayed to God that the man _wasn't _a wall-climber, wasn't a demon. Jeep could deny that the tall man, dressed in white and covered in dirt, didn't make his heart race and his tan face flush. Yes, he could deny it, but it would be a complete lie.

Jeep wanted to grin like a giddy little shit when Michael proved to not be a wall-climber.

And when the mysterious man flipped the shotgun right out of Bob's hands, Jeep didn't even register the fact that the barrel of a lethal weapon was pointed straight at his father's head; for the first few moments he could only think about how completely graceful and precise Michael's actions were. He was fascinated. Then he snapped out of it and realized the danger Bob was in.

It was Michael who armed them, informed them of the imminent war, and helped them fight it.

But what really got Jeep hot, what _really_ got him to recognize his pure attraction to Michael, was when he and the angel were alone. Percy and Kyle were on the roof keeping watch and Bob was cooking while Sandra mourned her husband.

In the dimly lit storage room in the back of the diner, Jeep searched for the electric screwdriver and some plywood to board up the shattered window. As he took it from its place in the arsenal of his father's tools, he found himself in the presence of his apparent 'crush'.

Jeep eyed the angel suspiciously as Michael took a length of plywood and started toward the door. Jeep couldn't stop himself. "So what'd you do? You know, before you came here?"

Michael leaned the plywood against the wall outside the doorway, making his way back to the stack. "I was a soldier," he picked up another piece. "I was a general in His army."

Jeep swallowed thickly, feigning interest in the screwdriver in his hands. "Well, what changed? What made you leave?"

The angel's piercing blue eyes shifted uncomfortably. "I was given an order I didn't believe in. He lost faith. I didn't."

Suddenly, Jeep's throat was very dry. He swallowed again, finding no relief, to his dismay. "W-well, how come you still have faith?"

Michael placed the plywood in his stack and leaned against the doorway, watching the young man peculiarly. "I mean, it seems like everything I have faith in causes me nothin' but trouble." Jeep added. Michael's gaze turned to his feet for a moment.

"When God chose your kind as the object of his love, I was the first in all of Heaven to bow down before you," the Archangel's pain showed through his words, crushing Jeep's heart in a vice grip. "My love…my _hope_ for mankind was no less than His.

"But," Michael shrugged off of the doorway. Jeep's mental mantra at the time was 'breathe in, breathe out'. It was a good system, so long as Michael kept his distance. "I have watched you trample that gift. I've watched you kill each other over race and greed, waging war over dust and rubble and the words in old books.

"And yet, in the midst of all this darkness," those cold, beautiful blue eyes met Jeep's and his crushed heart repaired itself only to violently shake and crumble. "I see some people who will not be bowed."

Michael stepped forward; bringing Jeep's breathing routine to a standstill. The man was slowly, oh so slowly, closing in on him and effectively suffocating him. "I see some people who will not give up," the angel continued in his advancement. Jeep didn't know what was worse: the fact that he was gazing straight into Michael's eyes and wishing the man would just kiss him, or the fact that Michael would soon be close enough _to_ kiss. "Even when they know all hope is lost.

"Some people," Michael was nearly pressed against Jeep, and was now leaning into the young man's face, cold eyes softened by what little lighting there was. Jeep needed to fucking _breathe_. At least, that's what Jeep kept _telling_ himself to no avail. "Who realize that being lost is so close to being found."

And as Jeep predicted, Michael's lips were only inches from his.

"I see _you_, Jeep." Michael leans back a bit, causing relief to flood through Jeep's veins and air to flow into Jeep's lungs. "Fifteen years old, your mother leaves. Your father withdraws from the world. And you spend the next five years of your young life helping him find his way home."

Jeep searched the angel's eyes as he spoke, unbelieving of what he was hearing. He fucking _knew_.

"You love a woman who bears the child of another and you love her with no thought of yourself, even though you know she may never love you the way you love her."

And somehow Michael was closer than he had ever been, his lips so close to Jeep's. He smelled of fresh air and crisp wind, and Jeep leaned forward, feeling lightheaded.

"_You_, Jeep. _You_ are the reason I still have faith."

As Jeep's eyes slid closed and he expected soft, warm lips on his own, Michael pulled away, swiping another sheet of plywood. "It's almost time for the next shift."

_Goddamnit._

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Legion, nor do I claim to._

Thank you for reading!


End file.
